


Fallen' for You

by depressed-sock (jinxedragon)



Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: Headcanon, Multi, ftm characters, nonbinary characters - Freeform, spoilers warned in chapter title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2019-09-02 07:56:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 16,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16782853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinxedragon/pseuds/depressed-sock
Summary: Personal prompts and head cannons for Fallen Hero.





	1. Rubbelguy

**Author's Note:**

> -1st POV  
> Sidestep meeting Ortega

Was it always this tiring? I mean I guess I should have expected my abilities to burn out, especially since this was the 5th fight this week with self-proclaimed Lord of the Flies. What is even with that name? I haven’t once seen him command a single fly, just shoot fucking lasers.

“None shall defeat me!” the asshole screeches, blasting the spot where I’d been standing. God this guy is fucking annoying, he usually just showed up wrecked the place then ran away like a coward when I kicked his face in. Now he’s grown brave and it didn’t help that some other asshole thought he’d step in and help only to end up blasted into a smoking pile of rubble. Gave Lord of the Fucks a real ego boost.

I can’t feel anything from rubble guy. Fuck. I hope that just means he’s unconscious but considering past experiences he’s probably fucking dead. Fucking fuck.

Ok avoid the next attack, aim for his left leg; I can feel that wince you just gave asshole, means rubble guy did some damage before dying… being knocked unconscious. He has to be…

“Stop sidestepping my attacks! You little bi-Aaaarrggg!” Whoops, might have broken his leg… better just knock him out. I land a quick kick to his face, waiting a moment testing with my telepathy making sure he’s knocked out.

Fuck that felt more satisfying than it should.

Comparing his state to rubble guy though… yeah, that rubble fucker is dead. Shit, do I call someone I don’t really know a protocol for this…

“Hey! Guess I should thank yo-”

“What the Fuck!” I jump and turn around falling into a defensive position to find the …rubble guy? Holy fuck he’s standing and bleeding a little and has a dumb fucking smile on his face.

I can’t feel his thoughts though… Is he a fucking zombie!? Robot??? Zombie Robot!!?? What the fuck!?

Stepping back I mutter quietly, “zombie robot..”

“What? Sorry I didn’t catch that,” he’s got a weird look on his face, amused maybe.

“*Cough* nothing… um… are you…?” Alive… is what I want to ask but that would probably be weird, “ok?”

He scratches his head and lets out a light laugh, “Yeah, honestly shouldn’t have rushed in like that but,” he shrugs, “ guess it doesn’t matter now that you saved the day.” There’s that dumb smile again. “I’m Charge by the way or you can just call me Ortega,” he holds out his hand, the dumb smile never leaving his stupid face, and reluctantly I shake it.

Then we stand there looking at each other, just a few moments of awkward quiet… he coughs into his hand, “and you are?”

Oh…OOOHHH. Fuck. Um shit… name. I mean I had meant to come up with a name when I started this but everything kinda got jumbled up and I forgot and now he’s staring at me with a concerned look…uuuhhhh, fuck what did Lord of Fucks say? I kept sidestepping?

“Sidestep,” it comes out a little rushed and awkward but yeah that’ll work. I can change it later, right?

Charge’s face lights up, fuck I’m stuck with that name now I can feel it deep within my bones.

Sirens are getting closer, “umm..well it’s nice you aren't… dead? But I’ve uhh got to go… bye!” I turn and run, ignoring his shout to wait. I need to make sure to avoid him, he’ll hopefully forget me within the week, after all, I’m made to be forgettable.


	2. RubbleGuy part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -1st POV

Rubble guy had to be the most persistent person on the entire planet. It’s been at least a week since I met him and somehow he has fucking shown up every time I’ve gotten into a fight. He even fucking showed up when I wasn’t in costume and getting mugged.

I mean, he didn’t know it was me or why I was giving him the stink eye, but come fucking on doesn’t he have anything better to fucking do?

I sigh, rubbing my forehead. Maybe I should take a break… or leave.

No leaving is not an option…

“Hey,” oh god no…fuck. He takes a seat next to me on the edge of the building, flashing the fucking stupid smile at me.

“Rubble guy,” I say pretending to look anywhere but directly at him. Not like he could tell otherwise with the goggles on my face but I’d rather not risk the chance of encouraging him.

He frowns in response, I can’t tell if he thinks I just keep forgetting his name or if I’m doing it to annoy him. The answer is I haven’t forgotten your name and yes I’m doing it to annoy you, you persistent fucker.

He’s quiet a moment studying me carefully, then he chuckles, “Alright… Sportstore.” That really shouldn’t annoy me but then he had to throw in that smirk.

I swing my head lazily in his direction, “Go fuck yourself.”

He has the audacity to laugh, maybe I should just push him off the ledge… that would solve this problem.

I groan and flop back onto my back watching the clouded morning sky. Heroes don’t kill people, especially idiots who just wanted to help. Fuck maybe I should have become a villain instead…

“Seriously though, don’t you have something with actual protection?” He sounds concerned. I don’t really get why he doesn’t know anything about me and we’ve barely talked.

“Nope,” not like I need it, I can dodge and predict anything the enemy throws at me.

I look at him and yeah that’s a face of someone who is concerned.

“You know I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for saving my ass,” the worried look transforms into a sly look. Fuck. I really wish I could read his thoughts.

I shrug looking back at the sky, “I mean it is a fine ass…”

I can feel the confused look he gives me and I look back in time to see his face turn red.

“What..umm.uhh” he quickly turns and coughs into his hand.

Fantastic, maybe if I flirt he’ll get embarrassed, go away and never come back…

Screams pierce the air. Fuck. Guess I’m stuck with him a little longer.


	3. RubbleGuy part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -1st POV  
> Some time after Ortega and sidestep grow closer.

“I still can’t figure out how you convinced me to actually do this,” I yell as wind whips and screams around our small cover.

“Well I’m assuming it’s my good looks that won you over,” Ortega beams a dazzling smile towards me and it takes everything in my power not to smack it off.

“Ortega, you and your friend need to focus on the target,” Steel yells from his own cover, although his suit probably could have been protection enough… admittedly I probably just want to see him get blasted around.

“He’s not my fucking friend! I just use him for free food!” I yell towards Steels direction. 

“What a coincidence! That’s what I use him for too!” Anathema shouts from the other side, making me smirk. Anathema was fun, we had… well some important things in common, and he was the only upside of this temporary team up. Well, him and the free food I’m going to get Ortega to get me later are the only upsides. I should really think about what I want…

“Hey!” Ortega shouts a frown on his face, idiot.

“Ahh don’t be hurt rubbleguy! I also use you for the free suit,” the smile hidden under my mask feels immeasurable. Ortega just gives me a look of utter betrayal.

“Rubbleguy?!” Anathema shouts trying his best to catch his breath through his laughter and I’m pretty sure I hear Steel muttering for someone to give him patience. 

I pat Ortega on the shoulder and quickly grab a large rock as the wind begins to die down.

I feel the villain's anger grow, she’s mad but most of all she’s confused, “How dare you! I’m the villain here you’re supposed to fight me! Not chat amongst yourselves!!”

I stand and lean against our cover, “Sorry, did you say something?”

Her light green dress flows around her the wind fighting itself in her own personal bubble. Some might have described her appearance at beautifully ethereal and fae like, I’m too annoyed to say anything nice about some fucker who decided to ruin my ice cream.

That’s right, I fucking said ice cream and now that I’m thinking about it I think I want Ortega to get me a cartoon of bubblegum ice cream.

“How dare..”, *thunk* she goes down like a pile of rocks as my thrown rock hits her between her eyes.

I clap my hands together and turn to Ortega who stares at me shocked, “You owe me a carton of bubblegum ice cream.” He gapes like a fish, as I turn on my heel and walk off the smile never leaving my face.


	4. Mortum/Sidestep crush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -1st POV

It was nights like these that I yearned for the normal life that I live through Eden. _Well, I guess this can’t exactly be considered normal,_ I think as Mortum pulls up the video of the latest footage of Heartbreak battling it out with some random hero. It wasn’t exactly that great a battle; their name didn’t even seem to leave a lasting impression but he wanted to go over some details of the suit with me and I honestly didn’t mind.

Mortum is… well, an enigma. Everything screams at me not to trust him, to use him and interact as little as possible… but there is a small part. A small part that I’ve latched onto and can’t seem to shake my hold of. I want so badly to trust him. I want the expressed feelings of concern for me to be real, I want him to be my friend, I want…I want more than that but I can’t hurt him like that. Because in the end, it’s not me that is here, it’s Eden.

And the immeasurable pain I feel when he explicitly states he doesn’t like or trust my “boss” is both excruciating and relieving. I don’t want him to trust **me** if he did…it would only lead to pain… or worse. If I actually tried to think about it, I’d have to acknowledge this charade with Eden might hurt him worse but I’m too selfish to think about that.

Him sitting beside me leaning close as we discuss the video and the way the armor preforms, his smile kind and insistent, it’s a comfort that breaks me to pieces, a drug I’d gladly take over and over again.


	5. Steel/Sidestep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -2nd POV

The first time you kiss Chen it’s like kissing a brick wall. His entire form goes ridged as your lips press together and you think maybe you fucked up. You weren’t completely sure when you decided this was a good idea.

Scratch that, you never decided it was a good idea, you just let your body lean forward into his without thinking it through.

You start to retreat pulling back, only to be stopped as Chen gently rests his left hand on the back of your neck. His forehead meets yours and you find yourself staring into his eyes.

This is the worse idea you’ve ever had; terrible, horrible…

The second kiss is much better.

…

The first time you try to go further than a kiss you’re on the verge of a breakdown. You try to watch as he gently traces your arm that’s laid bare. But the nausea and feeling of disgust hits you hard and fast.

He stops, silently waiting for your okay but all you can do is rest your head in his chest and sob. His hand comes up gently stroking your hair.

Sometimes it feels like he’s the mind reader here and not you. You should tell him that just to see the look on his face. You let out a choked laugh and he holds you a bit tighter.

The second time you try to go further doesn’t happen that day.


	6. Rubblegal short

“Rubbleguy,” you say with a sigh, swinging your legs on the edge of the building. Ortega to her credit doesn’t push you off, something you would have thought she’d do sooner or later.

She sits beside you with a snort, “I still don’t get that nickname you’ve given me.”

To be fair you gave it to her when you were freaking out about the fact that you couldn’t read her mind, maybe it’s time to change that, “Does rubble woman sound better? Rubble girl?” You pause a second before snapping your fingers and pointing at her, “Rubblegal!”

“No,” she laughs, shaking her head.

“It’s official you are now Rubblegal, there’s no changing it. Your stuck with it forever,” you shrug your shoulders, your smile hidden behind your mask.

She rolls her eyes, “Why are we friends?”

“That’s your own fault Rubblegal,” you say with a laugh.


	7. M!Ortega/m!Sidestep: spoilers in this one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to give Kiyo some attention though he probably would rather i not =D
> 
> Spoilers for Retribution!!

Fear courses through you as you sit on the bed, everything has fallen apart and now you’re left with Ortega glaring at you in your own room. Or at the very least he should be glaring at you.

There should be shouting and anger but what you’ve got is Ortega staring at you with an unreadable expression. You’re both waiting for the other to break the silence. You had hoped it would’ve been Ortega, it’s so much easier to respond, to react but you think it’ll have to be you who breaks, _over and over again._

“So,” the words tremble out and you try to ground yourself letting your hands fist around your blankets.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s said so quietly that you almost miss it. A bark of laughter escapes you, and you can’t help but shake your head.

“Oh, I don’t know, hmmm maybe it’s the fact that I’m not fucking real anyway,” anger it’s better than fear because anger means you don’t have to be the victim. Anger means that this is his fault and not yours.

“Kiyo, I don’t understand where this thinking is coming from,” he shakes his head before his gaze firmly fixes on you. “However, it doesn’t excuse what you’ve done.”

“Of course it fucking doesn’t make sense to you,” you shake your head trying to blink away the tears, “if you knew the truth you wouldn’t be here.”

“Why is it that you seem so keen on thinking that me and your friends are going to just abandon you!” His voice is raising, frustration growing maybe this will be when he finally admits enough is enough. “Yes, you’ve done some bad shit, which you're going to take responsibility of," he points his finger at you, _he still doesn’t get it_ , "but you haven’t done anything that’s irredeemable.”

“I exist, I’m sure that some people would count that as irredeemable,” your smile is more keen to an animals snarl.

His face shatters and he looks at you with pity, _please let it just be pity_ , “Kiyo-”

Your skin is itching and you can’t stand this much more. Rip the bandage off let yourself finally bleed out.

“I’m a fucking Regene Ortega!” You almost scream it holding yourself back at the last second to angrily whisper it. He looks at you confused and before he can say anything you rip of your hoodie because if you’re going to let yourself bleed out you may as well make sure you don’t survive.

And your standing, shaking as his gaze washes over your exposed skin. You can already imagine the disgust he must feel as he realizes exactly what you are. Exactly what he’s kissed, exactly why you run from his every touch.

You can’t stop your knees as they buckle and hit the floor or the sobs start that wrack your body. Because you’ve finally done it, you’ve ruined the only relationship that has made you feel safe. Is there anything else you can really live for? You can’t even remember your goal before Ortega came waltzing back into your life.

He moves and you tense expecting an attack but all he does is kneel in front of you and envelop you in a hug. “You’re okay, I’m not going to hurt you… no one’s going to hurt you,” he murmurs into your hair and it sounds more like a promise to himself.

You’re tempted to push away because you still don’t think he gets it but he’s holding you like a lifeline and you can’t help but cling back.


	8. Fallen Hero AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fallen Hero Au where Sidestep is deaf and has always been a villain working with Mortum.

The captions play as you watch the news report with a smirk, “The villain Sidestep has once again successfully defeated the Rangers. Marshal Charge any response to this humiliating defeat?” The reporter shoves the mic towards Charge and he almost bats it away, stopping last second as he realizes it’s a reporter talking to him.

He has a cut still bleeding over his eye and you can’t help the satisfaction as he winces a bit. “We’re working on it,” he flashes the cameras with a charming smile before going after Steel and Anathema who are walking off. God, you hate him.

Mortum moves to stand in front of the screen and you pout at him. He raises an eyebrow signing at you with his usual flourish; _You haven’t given me a report yet for how the armor worked_.

_Was that today?_ You sign slowly dragging it out and trying your best to look as confused as possible.

A smirk makes its way to his lips; _Kiyo_. 

You sigh, your head hitting the back of the couch; _Fine_. After all, where would you be without Mortum? He’s stood by your side even before you really knew each other; he helped patch you up after a failed go against one of the Rangers. It hadn’t even been over something big, just trying to get some extra cash for a meal. You doubt they would actually care to find that out.

And now here you both were, Villains in arms or… something or other. You aren’t really sure how to qualify your relationship; are you friends? Allies? Whatever it is you both benefit from each other, you get freeish tech and he gets access to the vast amounts of money you steal.

You get up, moving towards your own workstation and computer to start typing the report, only to feel a light tap in both your head and on your shoulder.

_Are the captions in the suit visor still getting in the way?_ You shake your head in negative, honestly, you probably would have never needed the captions, not with your ability to read minds but then you met Marshal Charge. Who had seemly come from nowhere and left you unable to predict his thoughts or movements. Frustrating to say the least but nothing your suit couldn’t compensate for.

Your deafness had not been planned by the Farm but the telepathy made up for it in the end. Until it didn’t at least, you think they would have tried to actually recapture you after your escape but you haven’t seen any sign of them, nor had Mortum. He’s the only person you would trust with your secret; the only one who is actively searching for a way to remove your ‘curse’ while helping you become more comfortable in your own body.

He had found out by accident when you’d taken a hit to your torso that you couldn’t take care of yourself. You tried to tell him you had it handled but his worry won over and he ended up walking in on you as you tried and failed to take care of the wound. He didn’t say a word, not until he was sure that you weren’t going to bleed to death. He asked…you reluctantly answered and that was that. Until he asked if you ever thought of getting the tattoos removed and essentially the conversation was now an ongoing process between the two of you.

He nods his head back in understanding, muttering to himself as his mind whirls with thoughts and ideas. You shake your head with a small smile; you could never pull the scientist from his own thoughts when he got into that mode. You pull up the report on your computer, getting to work.

…

This had to be the shittiest day in the universe. You can’t keep the look of disgust off your face as Marshal Charge smiles at you like he just saved you from impending doom and you should be worshiping his every step. All he did was stop a minor inconvenience but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know that the person he just ‘saved’ from a mugging is someone who punches him on a daily business.

He looks at you confused his mouth moving, you could assume he’s saying words but you’d rather think he was gasping his last breathes. Your body moves sharp and straight to the point, _I don’t understand you, fuckhead._ You could just tell him, speak slurred words that he’ll properly understand but you fucking gained the right to not have to speak when you don’t want too. So fuck him in particular.

A frown forms on his face and he quickly reaches into his jacket pulling out a phone, typing a quick message. He pushes the screen of his phone towards your face and you’re honestly tempted to snatch it and run.

**Are you okay?**

You shrug your shoulders; _Yeah I’m awesome now please go jump off the nearest bridge._ He looks even more confused as he tries to keep up with your over exaggerated body language. It’s absolutely hilarious watching him gape at you. You don’t ‘talk’ when you’re in your gear, so you don’t actually get to mess with him or anyone like this. You wonder how many times you can tell him to go fuck himself before he gets the clue… Okay honestly from what you saw of him on tv and from your battles he’ll never actually get the clue.

You wave your hand at him dismissing him, as you walk away but he’s running past you blocking you as he quickly tries to type on his phone.

**Come here often?**

He gives you the most disturbingly charming smile. God, you should just punch him in the fucking face. Instead, you grab the phone from him and typing out a message before shoving it back at him.

**Yeah, I just fucking love walking this alley in particular**

**Great place to get mugged, I’m told**

**Now fuck off  
**

He smiles and you think he might have laughed but honestly your too focused on wishing him out of existence. Before he can do anything else you feel one of his friends nearby and he turns around towards them.

You leave before he even notices.


	9. Oc Sidestep blurbs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nico: Adorable, calm, and 'always' in control
> 
> Luna: Angry, playful, and no longer feels like she's human
> 
> Kiyo: grumpy, sarcastic, and too depressed not to care

Nico Bailey:

_“So…” Ortega watches them carefully, it’s the second time he’s seen their face and he’s still trying to get used to it. Nico is so much more shy in person than they are as Sidestep._

_“What?” Nico is trying so hard to avoid his gaze, a light blush painting their cheeks. They should have just told Ortega no, but no here they were drinking coffee with this annoying man who barged into their life and refuses to leave said life._

_“Just wondering if there are freckles everywhere?” Ortega smirks but Nico responds with a glare._

_“That is a question you will never know the answer too,” they sip their coffee a smirk making it’s way to their lips, “old man.”_

Luna Falso:

_“Really?” Ortega looks at her like she’s the most difficult human being in existence. Luna, to her credit, tries not to laugh and is extremely pleased her smile hidden behind her mask.  
_

_“Okay fine, it’s not Falso Nombre.”_

_“Really? I would have never guessed,” Ortega rolls their eyes, sounding as sarcastic as possible._

_“It’s Luna,” she shrugs her shoulders, patiently waiting._

_“Luna? That sounds like a nic-”  
_

_“Falso,” It’s so hard for her to hold the giggle in but it’s worth it for the look of exasperation on Ortega’s face._

Kiyo Basri:

_"Get Out!" Kiyo yells struggling to pull the mask back over his face but it's far too late. Ortega's seen his face, there's literally nothing he can do to change that._

_"Sorry! sorry!" Ortega holds up his hands and backs out the door, slamming it closed. He leans against the door listening to Kiyo as he curses and throws something that shatters against a wall. A loud thump hits the other side of the door._

_"How much did you see?" a muffled ask through the door._

_"Enough to know my flirting is not in vain," Ortega chuckles and he can hear Kiyo answer it with his own._

_"Your such an ass."_


	10. M!Mortum/Sidestep

“And what is it you think you’re doing, mon chéri?” Mortum raises an eyebrow leaning forward on the desk that separates the both of you.

“I am definitely not fucking around with the new feature you’ve added to my suit, ” you say as you definitely do just that. You can feel his eyes narrow on you, and you can’t help but respond with a smirk.

It’s odd… it almost feels like he accepted the fact that Eden isn’t actually Eden but you a bit too well. You expected there to be more confrontation, expected more yelling but than again you don’t think that is exactly Mortum’s style.

You’ve noticed that you can barely even read his surface thoughts, so he’s without a doubt taken precautions. At the same time, he hasn’t exactly stopped physical contact with you. He is cautious about it, easily picking up that you’re not as receptive to touch in your own body but he hasn’t stopped.

You’re afraid to do anything further than simple touch anyway. Your relationship has been based on a lie and as much as you like Mortum you don’t want to push him further into something he doesn’t want…or isn’t prepared for.

“Did you do this before too?” He asks obviously curious, maybe a bit miffed that it looks like you don’t trust his work.

You shrug in response, “Of course, but probably not for the reason you’re thinking.” You point your screwdriver at him, “I’m honestly just curious about how it all works.”

He hums to himself, studying your face, “Eden did know quite a bit about everything I was doing, I assumed he had a technical background in mechanics…”

You sigh and place the screwdriver down, turning to fully face Mortum, “I guess it’s more of…a hobby?” You’re not quite sure how to put it. At the Farm, you weren’t encouraged to focus too strongly on any skill set but technology had always fascinated you. It made you want to learn, it made you ask questions.

You rub the back of your neck, it’s so much harder to talk to him as you and not Eden. Eden is confident, free to speak his mind, free to flirt. You… you’re not confident in the way Eden is, you have to be careful of what you say, you’re afraid to trust what you feel.

Mortum’s hand closes around yours and you look back up into his eyes realizing you’d lost focus. He frowns as he watches you and you wonder what he sees.

You’re not Eden, you’ll never be Eden. Why hasn’t he said enough is enough?

“I see you’re overthinking again, ” his smile is soft and he squeezes your hand gently.

You look to the side, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks, “That does seem to be a constant problem, doesn’t it?”

He leans close over the table and you feel yourself lean forward to meet him. His other hand comes up gently cupping your jaw as your lips meet for the first time. Or at least the first time in your body.

It’s slow and languid, and it causes a bit of anxiety. Do you even kiss the same as Eden?

“Stop thinking, mon amour, ” he mumbles against your lips and you let out a small laugh before deepening the kiss.


	11. Anathema and Kiyo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Personal prompt with FTM Anathema and Sidestep

"You should probably take the binder off," you comment as you watch Anathema try to catch his breath, he winces slightly as he tries to stretch out his chest. He might be invincible but you know he's got to be uncomfortable right now.

He startles looking up at you shocked, "How-" You tap your head, giving him a look and he lets out a nervous laugh. "Oh…right…"

"Don't worry,” you sit down on the mat, one good thing about knowing Ortega free access to their gym, “I get it.”

He eyes you carefully before joining you on the mat, a question in his head but he's too afraid to ask out loud.

"Yes, " it comes out a bit forced and you look away. You've never told anyone, the only people who would know are hopefully far away looking in a different direction. It might be a risk to even admit it but… you want to talk about with Anathema.

You want him to know he's not alone…you want to know your not alone.

He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates a moment, looking down at his hands. "How did you know?" He whispers and you can feel the confliction like he keeps second-guessing himself.

You shrug your shoulders and lie back on your back, "Don't know, I guess you could say that what I had been just…did not feel right." You look up studying the ceiling, trying not to remember back too far, "When I realized I didn't have to follow the rules, well I started experimenting. Being a guy, fit, so that's what I am." Maybe a bit too close to the truth but Anathema wouldn't know that.

It's almost funny, you're not sure how they would have reacted to you going so off script. Probably would have been pissed that you were self-aware enough to know that you didn't fit their script. Probably would have tried to 'fix' you.

That thought alone causes a shudder to run through your body, and you sit up quickly trying to shake yourself out of that kind of thinking. They don't know where you are, they can't hurt you anymore.

Anathema watches you with a frown, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just thinking too much, " you sigh rubbing a hand over your face. "Come on, you should get that binder off so you can breathe and I, " you stand stretching, "need to raid your fridge."

"Alright, just don't touch my ice cream."

"I promise, " you hold a hand over your heart, "I will not 'touch' your ice cream."

"Why does it sound like you found a loophole in that..." he frowns at the way you grin at him. 

You stop a moment, studying him carefully, “If...if you ever want to talk about it, I’d be happy to.” You would be because there are those times when you need to tell someone about it...someone who is not Ortega.

He smiles, “Thank you, but seriously don’t touch my ice cream.”


	12. Morgan/Mortum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't even gone through the story with Morgan yet and they're already headbutting their way into my head and demanding attention.  
> Tw: references self harm

“There’s another scar,” Mortum frowns watching Morgan carefully as they remove their shirt. They respond back with a smile that twists the scar on their lips.

“Yep,” they throw down their dirty shirt and pick up another, giving it a sniff and with a shrug toss it on. Mortum responds with a huff, and they can’t help but focus back on him.

“Don’t,” they say softly studying the worried way he looks at them, “I like my scars… they’re,” they stop a moment trying to find the right words, “mine.”

His frown deepens, “And how many of those scars are purposeful, mon chéri?” He walks closer waiting for them to nod their head slightly before raising a hand to cup their cheek running his thumb over the many scars that covers their face.

“A lot of them,” they say, their voice steady, “I’ve never cared much for this body…” they look down shrugging their shoulders, “it was never intended for me to have ownership over it. Scars though…” their hand moves covering his hand that cups their cheek, “They bring less value to how everyone else sees me but me.”

They smile sadly at Mortum and in response he raises his other hand fully cupping their face and bringing them into a kiss. Kissing slowly, with as much care as he can show. When the kiss is broken Morgan let’s out a small sob, their head finding it’s way into the crook of his neck. He holds them tightly, afraid to let go. Afraid of how easily they let themself get hurt, that one day it’ll get them killed.

“I understand,” he whispers quietly into their hair. “All I ask is that you be more careful, please,” he begs, knowing it might be useless. All he can do is ask, he can’t force them to change a habit that’s been around far longer then the name Sidestep.

Their arms wrap around him, giving him a squeeze back before they let go standing back up to full height. “I’ll try,” they say eyes still misty. They’ll try harder because they don’t mind it if it’s for Mortum. They lost the will to do it for themself a long time ago.


	13. Kiyo Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more Kiyo! This time focusing on him figuring himself out.

You watch yourself carefully in the mirror, your long black hair almost hides your face and you can’t help but grit your teeth. It’s wrong, you don’t know why it’s wrong but it is. You blink and your fist has driven itself into the mirror.

Pain blossoms and you pull it away quickly, “Shit.” Blood drops from your knuckles, shards of glass embedded into it.

A mistake, just like you…

You want to point fingers, say someone fucked up when they created you. That you don’t feel right…but were you ever supposed to feel right? Were you ever supposed to even feel?

You let out a shaky sigh, ignoring the pain in your hand to grip the counter. Study yourself, think before you act. What is it that feels wrong?

You look back up, grey eyes peeking out beneath your hair, looking at a shattered reflection…The hair needs to go.

….

You walk down the street, a hand nervously brushing you're shorter, choppier haircut. You had to use a rusty dull knife you’d found because it’s not like you could get a professional haircut, besides you don’t need to look pretty…you don’t want to look pretty.

From the corner of your eye, you catch a reflection of yourself, a satisfied smile on your face. You feel…better. Not right just yet but you can easily figure it out as you go.

….

Transgender, a word they keep using to describe Sentinel. Along with a few other words but you’d rather not think about those.

Sentinal is different… no, it’s … more like he’s similar? to you… or at least you think he is but you don’t know for sure… you need to do research, you need to think before you act.

You sigh, pulling the hoodie further down over your face as you stare at the computer screen. The library is probably not the best place for this, too out in the open for your taste but you need to know.

You type the word into the search bar. You have to know.

….

You stare at the money in your hand, you could use it to feed you for the next couple months or even buy a binder but...

The man in front of you coughs awkwardly into his hand, most people would take one look at him and instinctively stay out of his way. He looks mean, acts mean but he’s more than that. He’s got exactly what you need and you can tell he won’t rip you off.

You gulp and hand him the cash, he quickly counts it then returns the favor by handing you a small bottle with a package of several clean needles. He tips his hat to you, “Nice, doin business with ya.”

You nod and walk away, tucking the bottle of testosterone into your jacket. It’s easier to steal food and clothes, anyway.

….

You laugh, your voice cracking slightly and you can’t help but let out another round of giggles. You love it and while your voice doesn’t reach the range it used to, you know it feels more right than it ever had been before.

You find yourself looking into another mirror, one so much farther away from the last one. You look…well like you…for the first time ever, you look like you.

You let out another laugh, it’s a giddy feeling you never thought you’d experience. There's so much more you wish you could change but that can come later. Or maybe it will come never, it doesn’t matter right now though because you can finally see yourself in a mirror and feel like everything isn’t as wrong as it used to be.

….

“Hey Sidestep!” Ortega waves and you can’t help but groan in response. Goddamnit, you thought you’d given him the slip.

“What?” You snap irritated, grumpier than usual because you had to again forsake having constant meals for testosterone. It’s not a decision you regret, the need to feel like yourself far outweighs the need to have constant meals… your just hungry and the testosterone tends to make you hungrier…

Ortega holds out his hands in surrender, a small smile plastered on his face, “I was wondering if you want to join me and Anathema for lunch?” You open your mouth to tell him to fuck off, but a loud grumble fills the air and your immensely glad that your face is covered, hiding the deep blush that sets in.

Ortega raises an eyebrow, “I’ll take that as a yes. Hey Themmy, he’s coming with us!” He shouts over his shoulder but your mind is stuck.

He’s coming with us…He…

“Okay,” you say quietly looking down. He looks at you oddly before slapping you on the back, guiding you whichever way he wants, talking but you're not listening.

You're not sure how to describe how you feel…you don’t think you’ve ever heard Ortega call you by any gendered terms before. But he clearly thinks of you as male… or maybe it was a fluke?

Yours brought back to the present as Anathema comes into view smiling at you, eyes crinkling, “Don’t worry I convinced Ortega to let us eat somewhere more private.”

“Hey! You know I wouldn’t force him anywhere!”

“Oh really? Well-” they playfully argue back and forth but you're not listening. The happiness your feeling is indescribable. You let out a shaky laugh, startling both of them.


	14. Steel/Sidestep it was supposed to be smut but its not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kinda mature?

"Did you know you snore?" You mumble into Wei's chest an arm firmly wrapped over him. His chuckle reverberates through his body and you can't help the small smile that comes to your face. You plant a sloppy kiss on his chest than proceed to prop your chin up onto it to find him watching you carefully with a smile. 

His hand runs through your hair and you let out a hum of contentment. This whole situation was…new. You honestly hadn't expected your relationship to take this turn, and while you haven't really gone farther than cuddling in the same bed… you feel like you could do more…if you wanted.

You find yourself nervously gulping and you feel his hand freeze firmly behind your head. He waits, watching you carefully, a question on his mind. You shake your head and slowly start to move away from his hand so that you now sit straddling his waist. His hands meet your your hips just as you find yours firmly placed onto his chest.

"Are you sure?" He questions, worried you might be pushing things. 

"Yeah," it comes out breathless and you find yourself licking your lips, your mouth feels dry. Are you really sure this is a good idea?

He squeezes your hips a comfort, an anchor, "Talk to me."

"Right… I'm good… just need to take it slow," you shift slightly and you can feel him stiffen beneath you in more ways than one, a bulge begining to form beneath his sweatpants. He grunts and you watch his throat bob up and down as he swallows thickly. You lean down with a chuckle your lips meeting in a slow and languid kiss. Your hips press forward meeting his, moaning as the kiss becomes more heated. 

Reluctantly you break it, pulling back to gasp for much needed air. Your foreheads rest against each other and you find yourself briefly closing your eyes, revealing in the heat that burns through your body. His thumbs rub circles on your bare skin just above your hips. Everything feels almost too much. 

"Fucking hell."

He stops his hands tensing ready to move at a moment's notice, "Do you want to stop?"

You groan letting your face plant into his neck mumbling softly into it, "I'm sorry."


	15. Short with art

He tosses the broken helmet to the ground, emotions flooding through him. Frustration, anger… relief. No more hiding, no more pretending, no more lying to himself that he’s trying to get better… no more lying to himself and others that he wants to live. 

He wants to have not existed in the first place. Maybe then, everyone he cared about… everyone he loves wouldn’t be getting hurt in his quest of unintentional self-destruction. His greatest enemy has always been himself after all. 

Ortega stands motionless, saying nothing. It grates on his nerves, he wants Ortega’s anger. Wants him to scream and yell, to demand answers, to hit him and take out all his anger and confusion on him. He wants justice for everything he’s done. But no, Ortega stands there face unreadable. 

He can’t help the hysterical laugh that slips out when Ortega quietly (finally) whispers, “Why?” 

“Why?” It comes out mockingly, “Why not?”

“Kiyo…” He walks up slowly, hands up in surrender, “Let me help you.”

His vision blurs as tears begin to streak down his cheeks, mixing with blood. Ortega doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that there’s no way to help, to fix the pieces and bring back a ghost.

A scream of frustration rips through his throat, “I could never be what you wanted anyway!” He takes a shuttering breath and quietly adds, “I can’t be what anyone wants.”


	16. Fluff Julia/m!Sidestep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because I felt bad about what I did to them in previous prompts…

Because I felt bad about what I did to them in previous prompts…

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

“Juuullliiia,” he whines into his drink before resting his head on the bar, pouting at you. You giggle in response downing another shot.

“Come on!” you nudge his shoulder, “it’s only a little singing!” he groans turning his face so that it squishes onto the bar. He mumbles incoherently before pushing off the bar with his hands and a loud sigh.

“I need like 3 more drinks before I do this.”

“Yes!”

"And I get to sing the princess part.“

"Okay?”

……

You both stand on the stage, he leans heavily on you giggles erupting from both of you as you try to ready yourselves.

The music begins and you try to stop your giggles as you begin,

_“I can show you the world_

_Shining, shimmering, splendid_

_Tell me, Princess, now when did_

_You last let your heart decide?”_

You try so hard not to giggle but it’s so hard to control when he grins at you and lets out a loud snort. You find yourself stuttering to continue the words.

 _“I.. haha.. I can open your_ hehehe _eyes_

 _*cough* Take you_ wonder _by wonder_

_Over, sideways and under_

_On a magic carpet ride”_

You can tell he’s enjoying this, watching you stumble over the words but you’re not the only one doing this.

_“A whole new world_

_A new fantastic point of view_

_No one to tell us “no”_

_Or where to go_

_Or say we’re only dreaming”_

As you sing he coughs and when he opens his mouth to sing his part it comes out more like a horrific screech.

**“A whOle neW woRld!**

**A dazzzzliNg pLace I NEver knEw!”**

“Stop, oh my god,” your leaning into him laughing hysterically and he’s holding you tightly still singing terribly. The crowd seems to be caught between finding it hilarious and trying to boo him off stage.

**“BUuut wWheen I am Waayyy up heRe!**

**It’s cRyzztal cleaR!!**

**That NOW I Am in a whole NEEWW world with YOOOU!!!”**

Your dying and his voice keeps getting louder and louder, “Stoop! Okay, I give hahaha.”

He holds you up as he stops singing, salutes the people booing him than helps you off the stage.

“That was terrible,” you can’t help but let out another round of giggles.

“Sorry,” he looks at you carefully before trying to give you a peck on the lips which you turn into something far better. When he finally pulls away he rests his forehead against yours, “I’ll do better next time.”

“You better.”

_“~a whole new world.”_

You smack his arm in retaliation.


	17. Morgan Lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had this idea in my head and had to get it written down before I did anything else.
> 
> Also Morgan keeps changing their story on me. First, they had a really depressing beginning and now it’s this XD
> 
> Might have some things that would be considered spoilers below

“Do you understand your mission?” your handler asks you, as they have always have done.

“I do,” you don’t hesitate because you fully understand what you’re supposed to do, as you always have.

“You’re fully sure you understand mission parameters,” they stress the point looking at you seriously.

“I do,” you repeat, you don’t really get why they have to stress this. You only got lost the one time…two times…five times… Okay, maybe they’re right to be a little worried but you’ve got it this time. There will be no distractions.

….

**The first 4 hours:**

The mission is an assassination, the only information you are given is her appearance and schedule. Nothing more and nothing less, as it has always been. You spy her through your scope, red hair flashing in the light. You steady your aim, breathing in and out slowly, finger pressing slightly down the trigger.

_‘Meow’_

That is not the sound that was supposed to happen. You let go of the trigger turning your head to find a grey tabbing sitting next to you on the roof. It tilts its head before walking up to, rubbing against your arm purring. Its absolute joy of seeing a person brushes against your mind. This is… not what expected.

You let go of the gun and sit up reaching out towards the cat who happily pushes its head into your hand. You can feel a smile on your face as you feel it’s unbridled happiness at the attention, it’s been a long time since you smiled.

“Are you lost?” you ask it quietly letting it jump into your lap to curl up. No collar and it certainly wasn’t supposed to be on a building scheduled to be demolished in a few days. You should probably take it somewhere safer, animals usually get left at shelters right?

…

The cat hangs curled up against your neck, the hood of your jacket keeping her enclosed and warm. It’s definitely a strange cat. She’s also very demanding and hungry, you don’t exactly have money on you too by food but maybe you can find some. You sit down on some steps trying to think.

“Oh my gosh, that’s so cute!” A girl with fiery red hair stands in front of you a happy smile on her face as she studies you and the cat. “Does she have a name?”

“No.” she never told you a name… well technically no animal can really tell you a name but you don’t really get why you would know her name.

The girl looks at you strangely, **_Strange man..woman? Person???_**

Person… hmmm, you actually quite like that. Person… kind of like your handler, though you doubt they would approve… _weren’t you supposed to do something?_

“Umm, well..” she seems unsure of herself now.

“I found her just recently, I’m taking her to a shelter,” you explain trying to ease her awkwardness.

“Oh! That’s kind of you!” she smiles at you again happily, **_such a nice person. Such a nice kitty too just like Morgan… I miss Morgan…_**

“Do you want her?” you ask because you like this girl. You can feel her loneliness but you can see her kindness. The cat is also starting to perk up and take an interest.

“What?! No… I can’t…I..Really?” **_I shouldn’t I shouldn't… fffff dammit_**

You laugh gently letting the cat uncurl around your neck, “Yeah, you look like a nice person who will care for her,” you smile gently and now… she’s blushing. Oh uhhh, you hadn’t meant to elicit that reaction.

She looks down blushing, “Okay..” You gently hand her the cat and she curls up into the girl’s arms purring, “Thank you. I guess I should name you shouldn’t I,” she boops the cat’s nose, “How about Lace?”

“That sounds perfect,” you smile at her and she laughs embarrassed.

“Is there a way to contact you?” she asks as you stand up towering over her.

“Nope,” you start to walk away waving goodbye much to her shock, “Thank you!”

“Oh…Okay?”

…

**The next 10 hours:**

You were supposed to do something, it’s on the tip of your tongue. You know it was a mission and you know you had a sniper rifle… shit, where did you leave that? At the building, shit. You stop and look around, streets and buildings you don’t recognize. How long have you been walking?

You were lost in thought again and your handler is going to be mad. They always are. You let out a sigh, you should contact them. You reach into your pocket expecting to find your phone used only in case of emergencies only to find it’s not there….You must have left it at the building too. You’re going to have to retrace your steps, you turn around and start to walk again.

“Watch out!” you don’t respond fast enough as something soft and slimy slams into the back of your head. You reach back and it sticks to your hand pulling your long hair back as you try to untangle your hand. “Are you okay! I’m so sorry!” A boy runs up to you worriedly, crooked glasses almost falling off his face. ** _I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry_** “Oh no! It’s all in your hair!”

You finally manage to unstick your hand, tearing a few strands of hair out. You bring your hand forward to find it coated in a sticky green substance. “What is it?”

“It’s a school experiment,” the kid sighs wincing apologetically when he looks at your hand. “I’m sorry-”

“Desmond!” a woman yells from across the street eyeing you warily. **_Goddamnit child did I not teach you stranger danger._** “Get over here now!”

“Sorry mom!” he looks back at you before taking off across the street but you react faster than him. You move fast grabbing him pulling him close to protect his body. You land hard, face hitting the corner of the sidewalk but the kid is safe as the car just barely misses the both of you.

“Desmond!” The mother screams already kneeling by the both of you. She let out a sigh of relief and holds back a sob threatening to break loose when you open your arms and help him into a sitting position with you, “You need to pay more attention!” She wraps him into a hug and looks at you tearfully, “Thank you so much- oh god you’re bleeding!”

You reach up and yeah your left cheek is definitely bleeding. “It looks worse than it really is,” you say trying to calm her.

“Well at least let me get you something for it- what’s in your hair- Desmond!” she places her hands on her hips looking at her son expectantly.

“Oops?” he smiles awkwardly and she lets out another sigh.

“Let me see if I can find something to get that out too,” she grabs the boys hand helping him up with her.

“Do you have a razor?” she pauses at your question, “It’d probably be easier to just cut it all off.” you shrug. It’ll grow back eventually.

“Okay?”

…

Your hand moves against your freshly shaved head, you’ve always liked the feel. Maybe you should put in a request to keep it this short. You look around and… you have no idea where you are.. Shit… You can’t even retrace your steps now. You squint into the distance, band-aid pulling tight against your skin and you fight the urge to pick at it.

Maybe you should just pick a direction and walk? That’s most likely your best option. So you do, you walk until you can’t anymore and you find yourself sliding down against the wall of a brick building sitting. You should have thought this through… now your lost, tired and hungry… You frown as you study your hands.

“Please help me!” a person cries out as they turn the corner, makeup running down their face trying to look over their shoulder but they end up tripping instead. **_I don’t want to die!_** A man with a knife turns the corner and you react by jumping up and tackling him to the ground. He swipes at your face, knife slicing into your lips but it leaves him open for you to land a solid punch effectively breaking his nose. He cries out in pain dropping the knife so that his hands could cradle his nose.

Amature, you grab the knife and are about to finish him when the person cries out behind you, “Please don’t!” You flip the knife and punch him again, knocking him unconscious. You look back at them and they’re not sure if they should be terrified of you.

“Are you okay?” you get up, flipping the knife closed and putting it into your pocket.

They look at you a bit speechless, “You’re bleeding…”

“Yeah that seems to happen to me a lot lately,” you respond, the cut over your mouth stings every time you talk.

“Ummm…”

“You should call the police,” you tell them to give them something to focus on.

“I don’t-”

“That building has a nice old man who will let you use his phone,” you point towards one three buildings down. He’s already heard the commotion and is coming to help whoever’s in danger.

“…Okay..”

….

**42 hours later:**

You sit at a bar nursing a cold beer that an older man had ordered you with a wink. You don’t really get why he had thought scars and injuries were attractive but it got you free drinks and some food so you can’t really complain. He hadn’t had anything to drink but his mind didn’t say anything of deception and he left a few minutes ago when he got a call from his niece to come pick her up. He was expecting it, it seemed.

You’re still trying to remember what your mission parameters were. You must still be on them because you have yet to get a call from your handler. They would immediately let you know if you’d have started to go off script. You can’t help the mental shrug, you guess your just going to have to wing it until they finally contact you.


	18. Notice is taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herald/ sidestep  
> Gosh freaking hell, those snippets… those fucking snippets … now I have to write this so I can go back to writing angst.

**5 Things He Noticed**

1\. The first thing you notice about them is how tired and done with the world they look. Tired brown eyes set into focus by shoulder-length greasy red hair and freckles that seem to go on forever. They look broken… lost. Like they’ve given up on everything.

2\. The next thing you notice is that they lie…a lot. The first time was with Ortega, claiming to not have their powers anymore than retracting the statement when they realized the seriousness of the situation. They also keep telling everyone they’re fine even as their hands shake uncontrollably.

3\. They like coffee or maybe you should say they love caffeine in general. It’s all you ever have seen them drink, it just so happens that coffee is the easiest for them to find in the Rangers headquarters. They’re on their tenth cup of it.

4\. The next thing you notice is an accident, you just happened to be in the right place at the right time. You watch them as they walk by stopping a moment as the dog’s owner looks away to pet the dog. The smile on their face makes your heart skip a beat.

5\. When they tie up their hair you can see the long angry scar hidden on the back of their neck. They rub it when they look over the edge of the building for too long. You make sure to distract them when that happens.

**5 things you noticed**

1\. He’s too overeager, an annoying presence that feels too happy and honest. He keeps saying things to you that he means with all his heart. You’d rather he be lying.

2\. He’s too kind, helping random strangers, taking time for people who don’t really care about him…getting your coffee. It’s good coffee…

3\. He keeps asking if you’re alright and at this point your ready to kick both him and Ortega into a pit of lava.

4\. He’s too easy to manipulate, you can easily distract him and make him focus on something that doesn’t focus solely on the past. He’s made you laugh more than once…

5\. He’s attractive…no wait fuck. He’s not…well, technically he is but that’s not something you should have noticed. You shouldn’t notice the small smile he gives you when he thinks your not looking. The way he looks at you like you’re the best thing in the world. The way he makes you feel like you matter….


	19. Herald/Sidestep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m in flystep hell now, thanks  
> Fully based on that snippet so: Spoliers and not exactly smut but has elements of it.

Fingers trace your back, not following the tattoos but the many scars that mar it. A fascination he seems to have. He presses a kiss to your left shoulder, “What about this one?” hot breath against your skin.

“Uhhh…hmm actually not sure,” you comment trying to sift through your memories, “I got hit there a few times, Psychopather, some other assholes…” you try to think of their names but they were never important enough to remember.

His chuckle seems to reverberate through you as he presses another gentle kiss against the back of your neck. “This one?” he whispers against your skin.

“Explosion,” you murmur softly, “Before I was Sidestep…” you don’t bother explaining more as you find yourself stiffening. A past you’d rather forget.

Another kiss to ease the tension from your shoulders. Hands slipping around to your stomach. A gentle bite against your ear that causes you to moan.

“Fuck, Daniel,” you laugh as his lips brush against your other shoulder, “Are you done?”

“Hmmm? Got someplace to be?” he laughs as he sets his chin on your shoulder and you find yourself leaning back against him. Fuck, he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

“No… but I certainly would rather be doing something more… productive,” You turn your head towards him, a wicked smile on your face that’s probably ineffective considering your whole face feels like it’s on fire. Fuck, you don’t know what you’re doing and you hate that your only experience with flirting was through Eden. You end up groaning in embarrassment hands coming up to hide your face.

He responds with a small quiet laugh planting a kiss to your closest hand, “It wasn’t that bad.”

“It was terrible,” you mumble into your hands, “I have no clue what I’m doing,” you move your fingers a bit so you can peak at him, “I have no idea how to handle you…”

His expression somehow softens more, how does he even do that, arms tightening around you, “We can work on that.”

You snort in response letting him reach up to pull your hands away so he can plant a kiss to your cheek, “You really are way too much. You’re like the fucking sun, way too bright.”

“You know you talked about me putting you on a pedestal and I’d really rather you didn’t do the same for me,” he looks at you seriously and you roll your eyes in response.

“Yeah, except I can see into your head Sunshine,” you poke him between his eyebrows and furrows his brow in response, “Way to bright and optimistic. Nothing like me.” you frown, he really is nothing like you. He’s got confidence you could never hope to achieve, he’s capable of kindness you never expected anyone to have. To see you as a person… to see your horrible parts and still look at you and feel the absolute love he feels. You look away from him your thoughts racing. You’re going to end up dragging him down into your personal hell and you don’t know if you can handle the thought of being the one responsible for putting out his light.

“If you think my head’s all sunshine and rainbows I think your telepathy really isn’t as great as you think it is,” he says pressing a hard kiss into your shoulder, “I’m not better than anyone else, I’ve got my own dark thoughts too.”

You look at him with disbelief, “Sure Sunshine.” He seems to take that as a challenge a smirk growing that doesn’t seem to fit his face. The thoughts you pick up are… Fucking fuck, “Oh my god no,” you push him off with a laugh, “Where the fuck did you even get that idea? That… Oh god,” you’re sure you are blushing more than you ever have in your life. “Ok you win, I don’t even want to know where you learned that.” He laughs as he leans back against the bed.

“You’d be surprised what you can find on the internet,” he tries to waggle his eyebrows but fails spectacularly. You bring a hand up to your face as you shake your head, a smile making its way onto your face again. You smile way too much around him.

“Yes well that completely ruined the mood so I’m going to shower and go,” you move to get off the bed, ignoring his pout.

“Hey wait I didn’t-”

“I never said the shower had to be alone,” you smirk and his face lights up. A ray of sunshine indeed.


	20. Wrong Number

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern-day au Fallen Hero fanfic  
> I don’t even know lol  
> tw: minor panic attack

“Kiyo you can’t stay inside forever,” Morgan sighs sitting next to your huddled form on the couch. “You can’t let one bad experience-”

“Rule my life,” you sigh and look at with exasperation, “Morgan you’ve given me this same speech every morning for the past two weeks.”

“Shit,” they sigh leaning back into the couch, their face scrunched up as they most likely try to remember exactly what they’ve said to you. “I thought I was at least varying it.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Just give me a bit more time, I just…” you look away slightly, “I just need more time…”

They nod their head sadly and place a warm hand on your knee as they stand, “Call me if you need too.”

“Yep,” you wave as they leave. Dropping your smile as they lock the door behind them. Ace looks up at you from his spot on the floor, the gigantic dog taking up the space between your feet and the pushed away coffee table. “Don’t look at me like that,” you frown and he responds by tilting his head, “Ugh, you’re worse than Morgan.”

You fall on your side, trying to bury yourself into the couch when your phone dings and doesn’t stop.“Goddamnit Morgan,” you mutter into the leather of the couch. You sit back up digging the phone from your pocket, fully intending on throwing it when you notice the message is from an unknown number.

_UN: So don’t get mad but remember how you told me not to go with ‘my group of dumbasses’ to go jump off that cliff?_

_…._

_I may have done it…_

_and I need you to break me out of the hospital…._

_…._

_…._

_Wei please don’t ignore me, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot please don’t leave me here to suffer_ 😭

“What the fuck?” you look down at Ace but he’s happily ignoring you.

_Kiyo: Why the fuck would you jump off a fucking cliff????_

_…._

_UN: To be fair there was supposed to be water at the bottom._

_…._

_Kiyo: How the fuck are you even alive?!_

_…._

_UN: Please Wei we both know my stubbornness is enough to keep me alive for the rest of eternity._

_…_

_You’re cursing a lot. You okay man, or am I hallucinating from the drugs?_

_…_

_Kiyo: I’m not Wei. You’ve got the wrong number lol. You should probably retry calling him when your not ‘hallucinating on drugs’_

_…._

_…._

_UK: Quick question, you wouldn’t happen to live in Los Angeles would you?_

_Because if you are then this is a stroke of luck._

_…._

_Kiyo: I am… why??_

_…_

_UN: Perfect! come save me from the hospital!!_

_…_

_Kiyo:?????? I don’t even know you???? Fuck you don’t even know me???? Wtf dude_

_…._

_UN: my names Ricardo Ortega and yours is…?_

_…_

_Kiyo: not going to tell you. Wtf would you give a stranger over the phone your fucking name????_

_…._

_UN: because I want said stranger to come save me from the embarrassment of calling my friend and having him tell me ‘I told you so’_

_…_

_Kiyo: Woooow you’re a fucking idiot and I’m not leaving my house for an idiot._

_…_

_UN: would you leave your house for a hot date?_

_…_

_Kiyo: Alright that’s creepy and I’m tempted to just block this number_

_…_

_UN: no please! Your my only hope of escaping this nightmare unscathed_ 😭🙏

You’re laughing, this is absolutely ridiculous. This fucking idiot wants you to leave your house to come save him. He wants you… to leave the house….

_Kiyo: I can’t leave my house_

_…._

_UN: Oh? Why not?_

_…._

_Kiyo: I can’t I cant I fucking can’t_

_…_

_…_

_…_

_UN: I’m calling you_

Wait…no no no no. The phone rings and you jump, the phone slipping out of your hands. “Fuck!” you try to grab it, juggling it until you hold it awkwardly in your hands.

“Hello?” you can barely hear the voice from your phone but it sends you into an immediate panic. You twist it around in your hands and immediately cut the call.

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” Ace stands setting his paws on the couch seat beside you and head nudging under your arm. You pet him trying to get your breathing back under control. Until the phone rings again and you immediately send it to voicemail, only for it to ring again.

“Will you fucking stop!” you answer the phone yelling. The panic is still building, Ace trying his best to calm you back down but it’s not working fast enough.

“Are you ok?” his calm voice is rough and scratchy like he hasn’t had anything to drink.

“I’m fucking not! Leave me alone and stop calling me!” you’re shaking, you should hang up and delete and block this number.

“How many green things are around you?” he asks, and you feel your brain stall.

“What?”

“How many green things? Tell me you at least have a plant in there,” he chuckles and you’re still really confused.

“Uh… Does a painting of a plant count?” you look around, _why are you doing this?_

“If it’s green it counts.”

“Ummm,” you look around painting 1, Ace’s stuffed frog 2, Morgan’s dirty laundry 5…, “Six. There are six green things…”

“How are you feeling?” he asks but it sounds like he already knows the answer.

“…Better,” you say reluctantly.

“Good, it’s a type of grounding technique I learned from a friend. I’m glad it helped.”

“I’m still not coming to get you,” you frown in response. You’re not sure how to feel about a complete stranger calling you to help you out of a panic attack that he caused in the first place.

He laughs in response, “I figured. Just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“You don’t even know me… and I’m pretty sure you’re in worse shape considering you’re in the hospital from diving off a cliff,” why would he even care about a stranger?

“I’m not that bad off. Just a broken leg and a minor concussion,” the way he says it makes it sounds like he’s had worse. Oh fuck, this idiot probably has had worse.

“I think the concussion killed your only two brain cells,” you say with false concern and he laughs again before coughing.

“God, you sound like Wei,” he pauses, “Since I’m stuck here and you’re stuck there. Do you want to talk about something? Anything?” he sounds desperate for attention but you’ve had your fill of idiot for the day.

“No,” you smile as you hang up the phone.

 _Idiot: That was mean_ 😢

_…._

_Kiyo: lol_ 😈


	21. Morgan Lace short 1 (spoilers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Morgan was supposed to be a serious sidestep. I had a fucking serious background for them but now they just fucking decided that NO they want to be a dumbass like me. (Why are you like this Morgan??? WHYY????)

Four times Morgan revealed they were a [Redacted] and one time they fucking realized they did that

**One:**

“What the hell?” Julia mutters and you turn to find her staring at you, at your arms. You furrow your brow in confusion looking down to your bare arms, covered in scars from your haphazard existence and the markings…oh…oooohhh fffuuucckk, she probably wouldn’t like that tattoo you got with the Rangers colors and a thunderbolt. You were young when you got it before you had even met her.

“Sorry,” your hand goes to the back of your head, embarrassment flooding your system. “I used to live near a tattoo shop that gave one of a kind tattoos and…” you shrug, “I was young and stupid.” They did give out really amazing tattoos though, it’s too bad they shut down shortly after you had gotten yours.

“…Tattoos…” She’s studying you carefully, worry turning into confusion. “That’s all it is?”

“What else would it be?” you ask confused. Could a ranger tattoo be something else? Was there a ranger tattoo like your markings?

“I…,” she shakes her head, a smile coming back to her face, “You know what nevermind. I’m probably just overthinking things.”

**Two:**

“Morgan…” Steel is staring at your leg as you stitch it up, his face hard and unreadable, as your hand works steadily. From his mind you feel a brush of confusion, of worry; it makes you stop to look up at him confused.

“It’s really not as bad as it looks,” the wound wasn’t really that deep, nothing to worry that much about. He should know that.

“Not that bad? Morgan that’s-” he stops himself, his mind becoming unreadable. Did you say something wrong? Fuck, you probably did. You do have a tendency of saying the wrong things at times. You try to go back, think what of what you said that might have caused this response. But you have no explanation as to why he turns and leaves.

**Three:**

“Umm..” Daniel watches as you lift your shirt up, using it to wipe away the sweat covering your face. His mind blanks, a blush almost paints his skin until you feel something click in his head. He stares and you let your shirt drop back down, you really wish he’d understand that you just wanted to be friends.

“Daniel my eyes are up here,” you point to your eyes as you give him a stern look. His eyes shoot up, understanding dawning in his mind. Did he finally get the hint? You hope so, although Mortum would most likely laugh at this whole situation.

He opens his mouth to speak but closes it back shut with a snap. He shakes his head, mind whirling with sudden thoughts. “I uhh.. Morgan is there anything you want to tell me?” he looks at you desperately asking for some kind of answer.

“Yeah…” maybe it’s best to just tell him, it may hurt his feelings more but at least you’ll both know where you stand, “Daniel I’m in a relationship already.”

His mind blanks again, face suddenly unreadable. Suddenly overwhelming confusion flooding his system, “What?”

You sigh walking up to pat his shoulder, “I know it’s a little confusing but I’m sure you’ll find someone else that’s much better for you.”

“What?? No that’s-”

“It’s okay to take time away from me or even not want to see me anymore.”

“No that’s not-”

“I’m just gonna leave alright, give you some time alone,” you leave even as he’s sputtering out a response. Poor kid, you hope he gets over this fast for his sake.

**Four:**

Argent stares at your bare arm for only a second before she turns and leaves. Fuck, you really shouldn’t have gotten that tattoo….

**Five:**

He traces your skin, fingertips moving softly on the orange that marks your body. Fascination and sadness at war in his mind. It doesn’t bother you as much as you would have expected. Mortum had been wanting to see them, but… it felt too personal…too soon maybe. Sometimes you forget they’re even there but there are those times when you’re vastly aware that they’re there. That they mark you as something other, that those parts of your skin don’t really belong to you.

“Have you ever showed anyone else before?” he murmurs, plans you can barely understand already in the making.

“No-” you stop yourself as your mind suddenly supplying you with harmless events that weren’t actually harmless… no… you…fuckkkkk. “Oh FUCK!”


	22. Trans guy things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (I’m so sorry Kiyo I don’t know why this got stuck in my head but now you get to endure embarrassment and I get your 2nd hand embarrassment)

You ring the doorbell, trying to will away your blush. You can’t believe you let this happen, such a simple mistake that brings with it the consequence of an embarrassment so strong you would rather be breaking and entering as Heartbreak. It doesn’t take long, far too soon for your liking, for him to open the door surprise crossing his face as he realizes it’s you. 

"Kiyo? Did something happen in the last few minutes?“ He leans against the doorframe a smirk making its way to his lips, "Or did you-”

"I forgot something,“ the words come out rushed as you look away not meeting his eyes, hands unconsciously balling into fists as you try to will away the growing embarrassment. 

"Oh?” He’s still smirking at you.

"Please don’t make me say it…" you mutter quietly before crossing your arms protectively across your chest. His stance shifts from playful to serious, finally realizing you’re serious. 

"What did you forget?“ His face scrunches in confusion and you finally decide to move forward forcing him to let you back into his apartment. 

"I forgot… I forgot my…” you mumble it under your breath. The hazards of sleeping over was having to remove it. A mistake, one of many but the only hazard of this mistake is the embarrassment.

“What?” he scrunches his face and you can feel yourself dying on the inside.

“I forgot my…” why is this so hard to admit? It’s not something you’re usually embarrassed about. Maybe because it’s Ortega… maybe because there’s still that small fear of what will draw the line of what he can handle. Maybe it’s just you overthinking like you always do. You groan, hands coming up to hide your face, “I forgot my packer.”

“Your packer?” confusion in his voice, you haven’t had the chance to fully explain everything and you **really** did not want now to be that time.

“My dick,” it comes out muffled behind your hands and you feel like your face is on fire. He gives you the courtesy of not laughing at your response, his rough hands meeting yours to gently pull them from your face. You look away from him mumbling under your breath, “Just do me a favor and just do not say anything.” Preferably for the next few weeks… or months… or maybe just never talk to you again.


	23. Soulmate au (Spoilers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Character death, self-harm, suicidal thoughts  
> no defined genders

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

The letters appear one day when you’re still so young and you find yourself mesmerized by them. You trace the lettering on your arm, wondering exactly what you’ll stop them from doing. Wondering if it’ll be you dying or them, a morbid thought but not an uncommon one. Everyone claims it’s a curse; to know your soulmate based on the last words said to each other. That when they finally pass it’s like having something you’ve just discovered ripped away from you. Not everyone gets one, not everyone gets a chance to be there to comfort their soulmate as they pass. You’re one of the cursed, but maybe it doesn’t have to be.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

Words carved into your skin, words you can barely understand even as the knife shakes in your hand. They yell at you, wondering what you’ve done but you yourself don’t know why the words needed to be there. They aren’t yours, they’ll never be yours. It hurts when they try to cut them away, to cover them but you can never stop yourself from putting them back into your skin. No matter what they try the words have to be there, a reminder of something you don’t understand.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

You’ve given up on the words, ignored them, hated them. You don’t want to know how that story ends. Why bother looking for someone who’s bound to die, who you’ll never get the chance to really know… To really love. So you stop looking, moving from person to person. Ignoring their looks of pity as they see the words. You almost wish the words would fade away but they almost seem to grow darker each day.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

You escape, you run and the words you’ve carved into yourself are forgotten. You have more important things to worry about. Survival, not being caught and so many other things that catch you in a tidal wave of discovery. New things to try, friends unintentionally made. Everything that makes you feel more human than you has any right to feel. The way Ortega looks at you when you’re both alone. The way they smile at you like you’re far more than what you really are. They have words against their skin. Dark lettering that tells a story you’re not sure you want to know. You never ask, too afraid of what the words mean.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

You can almost forget the words when they’re around. They’re a curiosity that’s always challenging how you view things. Stirring feelings that should have been left dormant. It almost makes you wonder if they have words marking their skin as well if maybe that’s why they’re always covered. You don’t ask, too cowardly to know the truth.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

You don’t know what to call this relationship that has started between you. It’s something you fully expected to end just as soon as it has begun but it never quite reaches that point. Something always draws you back together, an invisible pull neither of you can fight against. An addiction neither of you can kick. You trace the words carved against your skin, wondering if they’re like the curse Anathema told you about; The last words you hear your soulmate say. It sounds more comforting than you would have thought.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

You don’t remember what their last words to you were. Only that it’s not the words you had expected. That you had secretly wanted. If it hurts this much to lose someone you love that’s not your soulmate how much will it hurt to lose the person who makes up your other half? You don’t want to think, you don’t want to feel. It hurts and you know it’s your fault that you’ve lost them. If the story written into your arm has to end that way maybe it’s best if your the one who dies, you’re the one who deserves it. You wouldn’t be able to live with the pain of losing anyone else.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

You scream as they try again to erase the words. You cry as she whispers in your ear how there is no one who will care. You fight them at every turn in the only way you can, defiance. You’ll escape and everyone will pay.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

You fall back into an old habit moving from person to person never remembering faces. A drunkenness that makes years pass like days. You can’t imagine the hurt that you’ll suffer when the day finally comes and the words etched on your skin are made a reality. You hope by then you can only feel numbness.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

No one came. That’s the part that hurts the most, you could feel it when something in you crumbled. You escape and you feel yourself only motivated by anger and numbness. You no longer care what happens to anyone who gets in your way. Everyone will pay.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

You finally hit a point, you have to get better. You can’t handle your mother’s tears, you can’t handle the worry from your friends. So you try, you try to get better. To ignore the pain and move forward, move on. To talk to someone who’ll listen, who will help. Slowly picking back up the pieces but never truly ridding yourself of the guilt.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

A coincidence, that’s all it was. A chance that should have never brought you together again. Yet here you are falling again, knowing that when you reach the bottom everything will shatter.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

A ghost that looks back at you looking like they were dragged forcibly from the grave. It’s both painful and an earth shattering relief. They’re alive, they’re alive and you can have a second chance. You can’t afford to lose them again, _the markings on your arm ignored_.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

You fall with no direction, the anger too much for even Ortega to stop. You only feel alive when blood coats your hands, _please make me stop_.

**_I know, Thank you for stopping me._ **

A new villain, dangerous and unstable. They need to be stopped before more people die. At the same time, you find yourself distracted and worried. The closer you get to the person you love the farther away they seem to get. The words itch against your skin.

~~**_Please don’t leave me again_ ** ~~

You trace the words one night, remembering the day you wrote them. You feel like you know what they mean now. You can guess at what’s going to happen. Ortega will never know how thankful you’ll be when everything finally comes to an end.

**Ortega:**

You stand over their broken form, breathing heavily anger still simmering under your skin. It’s done, it’s over… they won’t be getting back up again. They won’t hurt or kill anyone else. They let out a broken laugh, distorted and unnerving.

“You’re not hurting anyone else,” you grit through your teeth, electricity building beneath your skin.

“I know. Thank you…for stopping me,” it’s said in a broken gasp and you can suddenly feel your heart in your throat. No…no nono

The words along your arm itch, this can’t be happening. They can’t be. You kneel next to them, hands shaking as you remove their helmet. They stare at you, a broken smile on their face as tears mix with blood.

“No, no no CB no,” you can feel yourself panicking. You did this. You killed the person you love, you’re the reason your soulmate dies. “Shit hang on I’ll-” they reach out weakly gripping your arm, shaking their head before their eyes slowly slide shut, their hand falling to the ground.

“No no, stay awake,” you’re shaking them, trying to get them to respond. You can’t stop the tears or the sobs that wrack your body. “Please, please don’t leave me again,” you murmur cradling their body close but you know they’re already gone.


	24. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lies
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Characters: Kiyo and Ortega
> 
> Tw: Suicidal character
> 
> Spoilers below!

“Where is he?!” the words said desperately, pleadingly. As if he somehow had hope that Kiyo was alive, hidden somewhere, anywhere but in front of him. A single question and he unwinds your entire being. You’re no longer Kiyo, you can never be him again.

_You’ve never felt so alone before._

“He’s dead,” the lie tastes bitter on your tongue and causes an unbearable pain in your chest. You’ve ripped your heart out, thrown it to the ground and are freely allowing him to finally end it. To take his foot and kill every bit of you that’s struggling to stay alive and have hope.

“He's… he’s not,” denial in his voice, anger in his eyes. All you are is a regen lying to him. Hiding a body that has never existed, ~~ _that’s right in front of him._~~

“He. Is. Dead,” you say it slowly, twisting the knife deeper and hoping he doesn’t notice the tears burning in your eyes. Kiyo is dead and it’s his fault. He doesn’t know that though. Doesn’t know how each question, each denial of how **_you_** are not Kiyo stabs a knife into a corpse he’s already made.

_Corpses aren’t supposed to feel pain._ **_You’re_** not supposed to feel pain. Yet this is the most painful torture you’ve been submitted too. That you’re submitting yourself too. There’s no small spark of hope of him or anyone else coming to your rescue this time. You’re alone with no hope and no plan for any part of you to survive this.

_It’s for the best_. A thought you keep thinking in hope that maybe you’ll start to believe it. Maybe it’ll even become true if you will it so. If it’s true then you won’t be around to hurt Ortega anymore. You won’t hurt anyone anymore. All he has to do is finish it.

_Finish you and maybe than you both can be free._

But he keeps hesitating, looking at your eyes and not the tattoos that clearly mark you as other. You wonder what he sees, a broken government toy playing pretend? A spy sent to monitor him? To break him? You might be the first, so very broken, _maybe you were never Kiyo_. **_A toy playing pretend._** There was never any Kiyo, only a string of numbers and letters matched to a barcode on your chest.

He recoils from you as you feel the tears finally give, he’s not quick enough to mask the guilt and surge of regret. You want this to finally be over, want this to finally end. _Why won’t he just give you what you truly want for once in your lives_? You let out a broken laugh, trying so hard to reel yourself in. _Take back control_. He needs to see your anger, your indifference. But it feels like all you can show him is the fear, the betrayal, the sadness and the surrender to the inevitable.

**_When will he finally give you the release that we seek?_**

You wish you knew.


	25. Friends in High Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends in High Places
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Old Morgan fic I wrote and forgot to post. (There was supposed to be more but again I forgot this even existed until I found it looking through wip’s lol)

“What the fuck are you looking at?” the man tries to stand tall against you but comes up a few inches short, anger simmering in his mind. Oh no… _What did you do this time?_ You had spaced out for a bit, not really paying attention to the world around you. Then a spike of anger and this man stomping towards you in a fit of rage.

“Nothing?” you say in confusion because it’s the truth.

“Oh, I’m nothing huh,” more anger, a line of thought heading fast towards attacking you.

“Honestly!” you hold up your hands in a placating manner, “I was just trying to remember which way to the grocery store and then I started thinking about what I was supposed to buy and I should probably get something other than alcohol… maybe limes…” are limes alone considered a food if you put them in the alcohol? …Maybe Julia is right and you need to eat actual food…

“I think this Julia is completely right,” your focus snaps back to him. Holy fuck is he another telepath?? His thoughts have turned from anger to worry and he’s looking at you oddly. “Seriously eat some real food man.”

“Person,” you say automatically, a habit you feel into. You know some people don’t take kindly to but it’s easier to know who to actively avoid those who hate you for being what you are than trying to conform to some weird set of rules.

“Uhh right, person… I can work with that,” he mutters scratching the back of his neck, “Do you need help finding the grocery store?” It crosses your mind to wonder why his temperament has changed so much but seeing as he’s willing to help you get back on track you may as well take the help.

“Yes,” you most definitely do.

….

“Hey, Morgan!” Taylor calls as you walk by, his smile bright against his tanned face. “Don’t tell me you’re lost again!”

“I’m not lost again?” you are but he did ask you not to tell him. He laughs but a frown quickly tugs on his lips as you fully turn to him.

“Who hurt you,” a demand, anger simmering under the surface of his thoughts. Your hand unconsciously reaches to the bandage on your cheek.

You shrug in response, “Stupidity and hazards of my…job?” is that what it is? You don’t actually get paid for it… you didn’t even know you were a vigilante until Anathema had pointed it out. You hadn’t really done any of it with an intention, people just cried out for help and you were nearby so you figured you may as well help.

His frown grows as he studies you before he sighs, “Someone didn’t get you involved in any shady shit did they?” His mind rapid firing going through lists of people you don’t know, trying to figure out if someone might be using you.

“No?” you scrunch your face in confusion, it’s more you hitting the shady people with a bat. And then getting your cheek caught on a barbed wire fence when trying to run away from their reinforcements.

“…Right,” he shakes his head, a smile coming back but his mind still working on a whole different level, “So are you actually lost again?”

“You said not to tell you.”

“Morgan,” he laughs looking at you with a weird expression, “It was a joke.”

…

“So, I saw you with the Marshal,” he’s got a sly smile on his lips as he sips his beer.

“Oh yeah, Julia,” you nervously tap your fingers against your own bottle. She’d finally convinced you to go out to lunch with her, and it’s still making your nerves fire off in a panic. You’re not sure why, or why you’ve been avoiding her since.

“Soo,” He looks over at you smile never faltering even as his mind does, “How is she?”

“Okay?” you respond, unsure of what he’s actually asking.

“Just okay?” he tilts his head, “I mean I’ve heard stories but none of them ever said she was just okay.” OHHH, he means her fighting style.

“Fuck, I misinterpreted what you said,” he laughs and you shake your head, “Her fighting is amazing, I’ve never seen anyone fight like her before.”

He sighs head falling into his hands, “No Morgan that’s not what I was talking about,” he looks back up to you, “I meant how is she in bed?”

“Uhhhh How should I know???” Did he think you were sleeping together? Apparently, because his mind immediately soothes over, and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“She not your type?” he asks looking away as he takes another sip of beer.

Is she? You… you actually never thought about this before… You’ve found people attractive but you wouldn’t exactly say anyone’s your type. How do you even know if someones your type?? Is there some kind of sudden revelation???

“Uhhh Morgan,” a hand waving in front of your face and you look back to find his worried gaze.

“I don’t know?” you really don’t.

“You don’t know if she’s your type?” he asks for clarification.

"Yeah that… I guess I never really thought about it before.”

He lets out a short laugh, “Maybe you should think about who your type is than.”

"Sure,“ you take another sip of your drink, "if I remember to.”


	26. Morgan Lace and scars part 1: Mortum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finished up my scar refs for Morgan and decided to try to draw their back…and then that led to wanting to write angst… which led to Morgan turning it around near the end to something softer…
> 
> Part 1 Morgan and Mortum
> 
> A Fallen Hero fanfic
> 
> Tw; scars, burns, past-abuse, ask to tag
> 
> Spoilers!

You can feel him hovering behind you, hesitating to reach out. You know what he’s looking at. What’s causing the sudden spike of worry as he studies your back for the first time. Scars upon scars upon scars. You only ever got a clear look at them as Wade, you know it’s not a pretty sight to other people.

"You can touch…just…be gentle,“ your voice is soft and your back tenses unintentionally as his fingers ghost over the scarred tissue.

"How-” the question catches in his throat, mind moving fast connecting the dots at a rate you can’t keep up with, “there are many videos of you protecting people… shielding them from attacks…”

"Someone had too,“ you shrug, trying not to flinch against his hand as it traces one that sends a wave of pain down your spine. Old scars, old hurts that never seem to go away.

"And Charge couldn’t?” His voice is sharp, hand moving slowly up towards the burn on your shoulder. Pausing when he realizes your body has gone rigid.

"….She…uhhh…she kinda didn’t even know when I would get hurt most of the time…" you didn’t exactly keep it from her…you just didn’t want to bother her… and you don’t think your handler would have approved of you seeking her help.

"…You never asked for help?“ His voice is full of… something. Concern? Pity? Sadness? You can feel his eyes go to the orange markings on your skin, a thought of _they couldn’t go to anyone._

"I…” you start to wring your hands together, worry coursing through you. You don’t know if you should tell him…tell anyone. You know better now… _mostly_. “I was taught not too.” The words seem so much harder to admit than anything else you’ve told him.

You can feel his confusion tinted with the simmerings of anger, “What do you mean?”

"I didn’t learn self-surgery as Sidestep…" your hands have started shaking, you’re not supposed to say. Your handler would’ve been so angry. But they’re not here.

They’re gone and never coming back. That is supposedly meant to be a freeing thought. But in truth, you’re still so unsure how you’re supposed to feel about anything to do with the farm. You spent so long waiting to be recalled, waiting to be brought back ‘ _home_ ’. It wasn’t until after heartbreak you realized you’d been dreading every second.

"Morgan,“ his voice is soft, hands no longer touching your back as he moves so that you can face each other head on, hands offered out for you to hold. You hesitate before taking them in your hands, listening to his voice without looking up, "You don’t have to tell me.”

"I think I need too,“ you can’t look him in the eyes, focusing on his hands marked with small scars from his work, "My handler…they didn’t like… ummm ‘wasting resources’ on me,” _already too broken so why waste the money_ , “so I.. I learned to take care of myself and if I didn't…” an unexpected sob catches in your throat. You don’t know why this is so hard, why this is so different from admitting you used him… that you feel in love with him… that you’re a regen, a tool to be used.

He’s trying to reign in his own emotions, trying to keep calm and not put the pressure of his building anger on you. It helps you as well, bring you back from the panic clawing at your throat. Realizing you’re not ready to talk about this. 

"Anyway…it’s kind of hard to do self-surgery on your back,“ switch to something easier, something you can talk about, "That’s why it looks like that.”

He switches with you, allowing a thought on his mind as he studies your chest, a question of why you share similar scars, “Morgan… can I ask-”

"They taught me not to ask for help when I’m injured,“ you finally give, meeting their gaze with a broken smile, "Never said anything about asking shady doctors to make me feel more like me.”

"So you thought asking a 'Shady Doctor’ to perform surgery on you was a good idea?“ He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I never said I was good at thinking my decisions through,” your laugh feels lighter as you bring one of his hands to your chest. Over your heart. “And to be fair the 'shady doctor’ was a friend… I kinda miss her she was nice…”

"Oh?“ His hand moves up resting against your neck, thumb rubbing calming circles.

"Yeah, she kept giving me medical stuff for free and would give compliments like Julia used too. I actually saved her daughter, it’s how we met… She also had this joke where she kept asking me to marry her,” a fond smile making its way to your face. You tried checking in on her but from what you could find out she moved to somewhere much safer and her daughter was becoming just as much a genius as she was.

"…Morgan,“ Mortum stares at you, trying to contain his amusement before he relents and lets out a loud laugh, "Mon Cheri… I don’t think she was joking.”

"But…she said it was a joke?“ Multiple times, even though whenever she looked at you she would, "ooooo…. Fuck Mother.” That would explain so much. The random spikes of fondness, the disappointment every time she laughed it off like it was a joke. The protectiveness when she realized exactly what the orange markings meant. Oh no.

His laughter continues, eyes crinkling happily, “I’m beginning to wonder how many other proposals you’ve gotten that you’re not aware of.”

"….let’s not wonder that. Please let’s not wonder that…oh fuck I think I can already name 3 people…" oh god why do people say misleading things. You may be a mind reader but you don’t like intruding on peoples thoughts, so you just took whatever they told you as the truth.

Your head falls into your hands, “Why don’t people just say things clearly?” 

He places a hand on your head, fingers brushing through your hair, “Would you like me to say something clearly?”

You freeze, head peeking up slightly to look at his face, “Ok?” Should you be afraid of what he’s about to say?

He leans forward, lips brushing against your ear. A heartbeat of silence between each of you.

_I love you._

You can’t stop the smile that grows on your face. You don’t want to stop it.


	27. Burned Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> -Kiyo

"Ortega, do you really need all this-“ you set the box down letting it land with a heavy thump on his desk, "useless shit?”

He laughs setting his own box down next to yours, “These ‘useless’ files can help us get something on Hollow ground.”

"Oh yes, let’s see,“ you dig through it quickly pulling out a list of receipts, "knowing he likes to buy chocolate cake from the grocery store is just so helpful.”

He shakes his head snatching the receipt from your hand, “Okay not everything will be helpful but-”

"Ortega you’re obsessing over this again,“ you sigh, sifting back through the files, "honestly you should just give this-” your voice catches in your throat as a photograph slips free from the file it was stuck too.

"You keep telling me to give up but you know me and… Kiyo?“

You can’t look at him, fuck you can’t even move to run away. Your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest as you stare at much younger version of yourself. Longer hair, softer face, a violin painted in blood, no stop. It’s white in the picture it’s not red… it’s not…

"Kiyo!” Ortega’s worried face in front of yours, a rough hand against your cheek wiping away the tears leaking from your eyes. You’re on the floor, photograph still gripped in your hand. How does it even exist? The farm is usually so thorough after a mission and considering the mess that one turned out to be there should be no traces left.

But there is… in your hand…from Ortega’s box… with your name underlined and question marked. You can feel the world being torn apart bit by bit as each realization brings with it horror. Ortega has a photograph of you from your farm days.

You push him away, photograph crumpling in your fist as you run without looking back. Even as he calls out to you.


End file.
